Explosive
by TangiblyYours
Summary: "They seemed so precariously drawn to one another, as though they were opposite poles of two different magnets. Whether in the form of love or hate, they were inseparable." And no one could ever really understand it. HPDM slash, slight AU.


**Title: **Explosive

**Summary:** "They seemed so precariously drawn to one another, as though they were opposite poles of two different magnets. Whether in the form of love or hate, they were inseparable." And no one could ever really understand it. HPDM slash, slight AU.

**Warnings: **Slash, violence, and very slight AU.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the characters involved. No copyright intended.

* * *

There had always been a level of antagonism to their bizarre relationship.

The way they seemed to fight, argue, tease and provoke―so heated and fierce―but still suffused with an emotion that could only be called affection. They knew their limits―how far to push the other before things got out of hand and out of control, and never would either of them walk away without some sort of hidden acknowledgment, such as an apologetic glance.

Because that was the way they operated. So large of a paradox, a black hole that consumed them completely and only they were aware―only they could really understand it.

Even when they were children―to young to really grasp the depth of their ambiguous interactions at the tender age of six―they had behaved in a peculiar way.

Draco would walk up, his blond hair falling into his slate gray eyes as he regarded Harry with a scowl and small frown. And without further warning he would push Harry into the dirt gravel by the swing set, dust exploding from beneath the brunette's form and causing him to cough as tears welled up in his emerald green eyes.

And Harry would look up at the blond, his lip quivering as tears fell, and only then would Draco's scowl soften, his eyes losing that sharp edge. Draco would sit down beside him―_only Harry could ever silently motivate and persuade Draco to actually sit in __dirt_―and he would pull him into a tight hug of comfort and reassurance.

They had never questioned it, never really bothered to try and figure out why they were so utterly _different _from everyone around them. Because even at the age of eighteen they continued with their unusual relationship, and all of their friends had long ago stopped trying to understand them. They had been like that for far too long for anyone else to ever catch up.

Walking through the corridors, emerald eyes would connect with silver ones and each would narrow into a dark glare―passionate and filled with so much heated fury that it was almost tangible. It would fill the entire area with tension―molecules vibrating in the atmosphere as a reactant to the flow of consistent energy, and almost everyone in the room was aware of it. It was a type of magic that was memorable and dedicated solely to them.

And they seemed so precariously drawn to one another, as though they were opposite poles of two different magnets. Whether in the form of love or hate, they were inseparable.

If asked, both of them could easily remember the first time they had been pulled apart, virtually kicking and screaming.

It had been in their fifth year by Transfiguration room corridor where Draco had tackled Harry to the ground in a fit of angry words and fists. They had fought until both were left bruised and bloody when their friends had finally stepped in, Ron pulling Harry away, and Blaise pulling Draco in the opposite direction.

The reaction had been instantaneous as Harry reached out for the blond, struggling in his friend's grasp as Draco begged Blaise to release him. Everyone had tried to ignore the desperation in their voices, soft whimpers and pleas as they continued to fight against their individual restraints.

_But it's Harry, Blaise... He's fucking mine... This isn't fair, let me go._

_Ron, please... please, let me go, I just need―_

And nothing either of them had said made any sense at all―just like their actions―and if you had gone up to the Infirmary following the incident, you would have found Harry and Draco curled up in each others embrace. So tightly wound together, a mess of bruised limbs intertwining, that had it not been for the drastic change in appearance, you wouldn't have been able to tell where one began and where the other ended.

And the next time that they had fought, they made sure that there was no possible way for either of them to be separated from the each other for even a moment.

The very second that Ron and Blaise had attempted to intervene, all movement had ceased as the two of them clung to one other, Draco burying his bruised face into the crook of Harry neck. Their arms had tightened around each other, an embrace that was so complicated and unyielding that their friends watched them with an expression of uncertainty.

_Harry, mate... You need to go to the Infirmary..._

_Mmph, mine._

_C'mon..._

_Nuhf, leave us alone, Ron... 'E's mine._

And no one could understand it.

They were explosive when around one another, but only they could calm each other down. They argued and fought to the point of physical mutilation, but they were so, so soothing, soft, and affectionate that it made your heart stop at the mere sight of their simple embrace. They lived solely for each other, a fire and a volatile mix of all things poignant that it was worrying to those who didn't―_couldn't_―understand them.

They hated, but they loved just as fiercely.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Alright, so I have absolutely no idea where this idea came from, quite honestly. Rereading this, it seems so very odd to me, very peculiar, but I kind of enjoy how I've made it certainly different from any other Harry and Draco story that I've ever read, or written for that matter. I have no idea if this even makes any sense at all, really... My muse is so very awkward sometimes, and I apologize if this is too weird or poetic... Or whatever this really is. I don't even know, honestly.

It is a tiny bit AU with having tiny Harry and Draco know each other... But I really wanted to write a scene when they were children, how they might of behaved.

And once again, thank you so much to everyone who has been giving me so much positive encouragement. You guys are great, seriously. :')

I would love, love, love to hear some thoughts on this! The style is so different, and I would really like to hear how everyone perceived this story. I'm curious, so please review? Pretty please? :)


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